


The Only Secret I Have Left (Just For A Little While)

by BayouSexual



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Blade of Marmora Keith (Voltron), Blood, Blow Jobs, But like not gross blood, Caring Lotor, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, In Hiding, Injury, Keith has a boo boo ok, Lotor Is Secretly Alive AU, Lotor cares so much, M/M, Mild Smut, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, Secret Relationship, Secrets, Somewhat, a big one, injured keith, its not entirely established
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:02:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22169851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BayouSexual/pseuds/BayouSexual
Summary: “You’ll regret this when it scars.” He says, giving up and shuffling the items in his hands to the bench beside Keith’s bare thigh. “I never trained for combat care. I have no where near the level of skill to do this properly.”“I’ve got bigger scars,” Keith says, and that’s true.Lotor has seen them, and he can see them now, his focus drawn in particular to the one that traces Keith’s jaw. “Yes, but I didn’t cause them.”“You didn’t cause this one either.”---------------------Or that one hurt/comfort fic that was meant to be a PWP but I somehow slipped and gave it plot.
Relationships: Keith/Lotor (Voltron)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 132





	The Only Secret I Have Left (Just For A Little While)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GeekMom13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeekMom13/gifts).



> Hello all.  
> Remember when I said I'd never write another Voltron fic?  
> Yeah, well, turns out I'm a liar.
> 
> This is a Christmas gift for the lovely Geekmom13 as a part of our Secret Paladins exchange.  
> I really hope you like this.  
> I actually started three different fics as a gift to you, but this one fought the other two tooth and nail to exist and ended up winning. Enjoy!
> 
> Lovely shout-out to Cheyenne and Ronnie for giving this the ole once over and making sure I remained coherent.

“...there are two types of secrets: the kind you _want_ to keep in, and the kind you don't _dare_ to let out.”

― **Ally Carter**

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Lotor doesn’t hear a ship docking. The container of his bunker is thick, and the rain of this planet is heavy against its metal walls. It's only the familiar-patterned beeps echoing right beyond his inner chamber that alert him at all.

When the alarm chirps, twice and shrill in quick succession, letting him know the pattern being pressed is wrong, he drops the book he’s not really reading to the side, and moves to open the door himself. The panels slide back after a hesitation that shows the age of their building, and the sight on the other side makes Lotor frown. 

“You’ve changed your codes.” Keith states, black hair plastered to his forehead, and his blade uniform stuck tightly to his body. 

“It’s the same,” Lotor says, taking in the slight wobble to Keith’s stance and the dark matter lingering on his chest that cannot be rain, “you must have typed it in wrong.” He pauses, hesitates. “You should’ve commed first.”

Keith shakes his head. “Wasn’t safe. I didn’t want anyone to know where I was headed.”

Lotor bites his lip, not liking the reminder that their lives are nothing more than well kept secrets, but he moves to the side and allows Keith room to come in.

Keith stumbles and Lotor, on instinct, darts back forward to catch him, one hand on his chest and the other on his arm. Keith whines with the jarring motion, and his breathing changes, sure signs that something is desperately wrong.

“You’re injured.” Lotor observes, voice straining whether he wants it to or not. 

“It’s nothing.” Keith denies the obvious even as he leans against the firm wall of Lotor’s chest.

“Lying won’t make you feel better.” Lotor retorts. The dark matter helping to soak Keith’s clothes is more easily identifiable now that they’ve stepped into the light, and Lotor can smell the familiar tinge of copper that denotes Keith’s half-human blood from the rest. It turns his stomach and makes him growl. “How much of this is yours?”

“More than you’d like, I’m sure.”

Lotor turns Keith in his arms, facing him away and checking his back for more dark stains, but the suit is so damp he can’t pinpoint a source in the blackness. 

“We need to get you clean.” He walks Keith forward as he says it, ignoring any resistance “There’s a shower down the hall. It’s not as nice as the ones in the Blade barracks, but I’m sure it’ll do.”

“Was getting soaked outside not enough?” Keith scoffs, but he drops his attempts to block Lotor’s movement, falling into the arm Lotor wraps around him with practiced ease.

“You’re the one who showed up here.” Lotor reminds him, as he softly maneuvers Keith through a doorway and down onto a bench beside the shower. “You knew what to expect.”

He turns away to start the shower running and to lay out towels and Keith remains silent behind him for a moment. It’s not until he’s turning back, that Keith replies. 

“This is the only place where no one will look.” He meets Lotor’s eyes as he says it, and Lotor feels his frown deepen. Then, he whispers, “you’re the only secret I have left.”

Lotor pretends he doesn’t hear, leaning forward and curling his fingers in the side of Keith’s suit, searching. It only takes him a moment to find the clasps from memory and quietly begin undoing them. Keith does nothing more than raise his arm enough to let him. The silence between them returns, but it isn’t heavy, and before Lotor knows it he’s undoing the last clasp near one of Keith’s ankles and Keith is tossing the entire suit to the floor in a wet heap. 

Keith’s fully on display then, and Lotor scans his scar strewn body with a larger knot in his chest than he’s ever felt when scanning it in the past. His eyes can’t help but catch on the seeping gash right above Keith’s navel. 

“Did you think you could hide this?” He asks lightly, voice barely there at all. 

Keith winces, prodding his own wound gently with one finger and causing it to reopen. “I honestly didn’t know how bad it was.” 

Lotor steps away again, turning to the cabinets and hoping to the stars that he there’s something in them that he can use. Luckily, there’s an old first aid kit lingering on the bottom shelf of the last one he checks.

“Thankfully, when I built this place six thousand years ago I was smart enough to stock it.” He pops the metal lid and pulls out what he needs; gauze, healing pads, and some green liquid he knows will burn like hell. He lingers a moment over steel thread and a curved needle before grabbing them too. “I wish I could say that I know what I’m doing, but we should probably call Acxa. She could bring a medi-pod by morning.” 

“We shouldn’t call anyone!” Keith growls sharply, grabbing Lotor’s shoulder and turning him back toward him. “Use your head. She’s perfectly willing to keep you alive out here, but I doubt she’d feel the same about me.”

Lotor doesn’t doubt that either, but he watches the blood run down Keith’s abdomen and it feels like he’s watching the world crack. The piss-yellow streams outside are probably close to breaking their banks, and here Keith sits, starting a river of his own in Lotor’s bathroom. Whether of blood or emotions, it’s not a flood that Lotor feels he can survive once it truly starts.

“You’ll regret this when it scars.” He says, giving up and shuffling the items in his hands to the bench beside Keith’s bare thigh. “I never trained for combat care. I have no where near the level of skill to do this properly.” 

“I’ve got bigger scars,” Keith says, and that’s true. 

Lotor has seen them, and he can see them now, his focus drawn in particular to the one that traces Keith’s jaw. “Yes, but I didn’t cause them.” 

“You didn’t cause this one either.” Keith laughs, but cuts off with a hiss when Lotor pours the antiseptic on his stomach without warning. “Fuck! A heads up would’ve been nice asshole.” 

Lotor gives his own laugh in response, using the gauze to dry the wound and to wipe away the offending trail of blood. “I practically admitted that I don't know what I’m doing. Shouldn’t that have been ‘heads up’ enough?”

He thinks he hears Keith mutter something like ‘purple bastard’ under his breath, but Lotor ignores it in favor of hastening his task. The needle is unsteady in his fingers, and he tries not to flinch every time Keith’s breath catches as it passes through his flesh. It probably takes longer than necessary, with him stopping every few seconds to combat the weird feeling in his own chest, but finally he unpeels the package of a healing pad and smooths it down over the plane of Keith’s abs. 

“I can’t promise this will help. It’s certainly expired, but it’s waterproof at least.” He bats Keith’s hand away when he immediately tries to lift a sealed edge. “It will provide some protection.” 

There’s something like a ‘ _more than I can_ ’ that lingers and dies at the end of that statement. Lotor swallows it and stands up. 

“The water’s probably getting cold. We should hurry.” He states, finally peeling off the under-armour he always wears in case of an emergency. 

“Oh? Are you joining me?” Keith asks playfully, struggling to get himself off the bench as Lotor’s things pile on top of his on the floor. He’s barely standing before Lotor has to catch him again, their skin pressing together and making them both hiss. Keith tries to push away. “ _Shit_.” 

“Unless you want to end up on your ass with that wound reopened,” Lotor shoves him toward the stall, not ungently, but hard enough that Keith glares back over his shoulder, “then, yes, I'll be joining you.”

Keith grunts, but pulls Lotor along behind him until they’re both situated under the spray. Lotor goes easily, adjusting to where he’s closest to the outside and he watches the water run off Keith’s body. It’s a mix of dirt and gore, and he’s relieved to see Keith’s skin come clean, even if there are still too many dark places marring the pale flesh. 

He reaches out before he can stop himself, brushing his fingers over a deep bruise on Keith’s shoulder blade. The pressure causes Keith to gasp, and Lotor moves to grip his waist instead, using it to turn Keith around where he can cup his chin and force him to look at him eye to eye.

“What are you really doing out there?” Lotor asks softly. He doesn’t expect an answer. He’s never gotten one before. “How does this keep happening?”

Keith shakes him off, reaching around him for the soap and shoving it unceremoniously toward Lotor’s hands. “Make yourself useful. Don’t ask questions.” 

Lotor catches the soap and drops the subject, refocusing on Keith’s skin. He touches where he knows he’s allowed, sliding his palms down Keith’s arms and creating a lather everytime he re-fumbles the bar. He helps him turn this way and that, shoving him back under the spray when he needs to rinse, and moving to his hair when it finally feels like time. He doesn’t linger in the dark strands, but he wants to.

By the time he’s clean himself, the water having turned cold, and Keith having been moved back to lean against the outer wall, he can see the droop to Keith’s eyelids. There’s a bone-deep weariness sitting there, resting itself against Keith’s aura, and Lotor wraps them both in towels to combat it. 

He’s so focused on keeping Keith upright long enough to move him out of the bathroom and into his bedroom, that when Keith speaks he almost startles. He hadn’t even realized how long they’ve been silent.

“The Blades have been following the last trails of the latest Galran uprising.” Keith looks up as Lotor maneuvers him down onto the edge of the bed. “It’s mostly just rumors, but occasionally they run across an actual hub or new planet grouping. When they do they deploy a few of us to track the leaders, and sometimes we get more than we bargained for.” 

Lotor holds his breath, fingers numb where they’re still gripping Keith’s shoulder. He looks down into violet eyes and sees the truth he doesn’t want. “Who are they fighting for? Who’s even left to lead anyone?” 

Keith bites his lip and dodges the question. “Like I said it’s mostly just rumors. There’s not much else I can say.” 

The omission sinks into Lotor’s chest like a blade. He hears an answer that isn’t there. “It’s not possible, I—”

“Don’t.” Keith cuts him off firmly, pulling him down to sit beside him and pressing a hard palm on the center of his chest until Lotor complies and lays back, moving to be against the headboard. “We can’t do this right now.”

Keith moves up beside him, and Lotor watches him wince while discarding their towels and replacing them with the unkempt duvet at the foot of the bed. Keith pulls it up over both of them, and Lotor feels frozen beneath it, his mind racing. 

“We have to. I have to—

“I said _don’t_ .” Keith cuts him off again, and tucks further into his side. “We don’t have to. You don’t _have to_ . You know nothing.” He pauses and brings a hand to the side of Lotor’s face before letting it drop with a sigh. “You’re _dead_ , Lotor, there’s technically nothing you _can_ do. Out there...” he points off into the distance, past the walls and past the rain, and past this planet where Lotor is hiding, “out there, you no longer exist, and in here I can’t tell you anymore than I already have.” 

Lotor swallows, every muscle tensing at once. “You shouldn’t even be here.” 

“But I am,” Keith counters, relaxing back onto the pillow and shutting his eyes, “and you know why.” 

Lotor doesn’t, he thinks he should, he has a vague hope, but deep down he doesn’t know why Keith ever came back here after the first time. They keep falling together and falling apart over and over, and If he wasn’t as old as he is, Lotor would think something higher up was to blame, but it isn’t. He knows _that_ even if he no longer knows anything beyond these walls.

Keith’s breathing evens out while he’s distracted. His time to ponder what everything means draws to a close with the slight wheeze of a snore, and he looks over at Keith once more. His black hair is longer every time he sees him, his face a little older, and right now, with his eyes shut in sleep, and his mouth slack, he definitely looks like he belongs somewhere else. 

Lotor trails a finger down the smooth edge of Keith’s cheek before closing his own eyes and letting the thought go.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Lotor wakes up to a sound like thunder coming from his kitchen. It takes him a moment to remember, after he’s already shot up fully to his feet and taken a stance for battle, that he’s naked and there are no threats. _Not here._

A look back at the bed confirms that it’s empty, and a muffled exclamation of ‘ _shit_ ’ from down the hallway confirms that Keith is the likely source of the noise. 

He uses that information to stride forward more confidently. When he rounds the doorway he finds Keith propped up against the kitchen island sucking an apparent sore spot on his thumb. He’s still similarly naked, his only covering being the healing pad that’s thankfully remained stuck to his abs, and there are pans and pots of various sizes littering the floor. It’s a sight to see in the still-rainy dawn filtering into the bunker, and one that’s too welcome to be comical.

Keith finally notices his presence with a start, letting go of his thumb with a groan. 

“This place hates me.” He says lightly, as Lotor steps closer to him, dodging pans the best he can. “I swear that all I did was walk in here and every cabinet flew open and released its contents on contact.” 

Lotor laughs lightly, tugging him close and tucking his face into Keith’s neck. He takes a moment to inhale, enjoying the scent of him under yesterday’s soap, before he boots his brain up enough to act alive. He stays where he is though.

“I thought I was under attack.” He teases in Keith’s ear, savoring the way the other man shudders in his arms before he finally does pull back a bit. “Are you hungry?” 

“Maybe.” Keith says cryptically, a steely glint in his eye as he meets Lotor’s gaze. “Not necessarily for food.” 

“I don’t think—” _that’s such a good idea._

Lotor starts, but he’s cut off by Keith’s lips pressing against his jawline, then his throat, then back to the curve of his ear. It’s like a trail of fire—heat and loss—and he immediately falls back into the habits he shouldn’t as he tilts down and captures those lips with his own. Keith matches him, kiss for kiss, and the heat grows darker.

It isn’t slow, it never is, but their hands are gentle where they roam, and Lotor’s careful not to disturb the healing pad on Keith’s stomach as he brings his hands to Keith’s thighs and hoists him on top of the island. He presses closer, sucking in Keith’s bottom lip then laving over it with his tongue before pulling back.

“Are you sure you’re really up for this?” He asks while Keith pants a bit harder than usual. “We have time.”

“We _never_ have time.” Keith argues, bringing a hand to the back of Lotor’s head to try and tug him back down. “I promise I’m fine.”

“Forgive me if I have a hard time believing that after being the one who sewed you up,” Lotor says, voice still light, “but I have an idea.”

He doesn’t give Keith time to protest, planting one last kiss to his stuttering lips before getting to his knees in front of the island. His height means that Keith’s thighs are at eye level, and he’s even happier about what he sees straining between them.

“ _Oh_ ,” Keith says as though his breath leaves him, “I think I’m okay with this idea.” 

Lotor’s glad, as he wastes no time biting the inside of Keith’s thighs, sucking marks into the smooth flesh and savoring each keen it pulls from him. He moves slowly on purpose, dragging it out, and making Keith wait. He waits until Keith is almost begging, praying, leaning on his elbows with his head thrown all the way back and gasping ‘ _stop, come on, please_.’ Then he finally relents, pressing his lips softly against the tip of Keith’s cock before swallowing it down like it’s his last meal. 

Keith almost doesn’t last, and Lotor knows just by the way he cries out and how hard his thighs fight against the grip of Lotor’s palms. There will be new bruises there tomorrow, but Lotor won’t mind them like the others, knowing how they formed and seeing them as imprints of his own fingertips. He’s marking Keith like this, in the only way he can—the only way he knows _how_.

It’s hardly a few minutes before the taste of Keith on the back of his tongue changes from sweet to slightly bitter, and he feels himself twitch as he drags slowly back up Keith’s shaft. He’s not going to last himself, and he removes one hand from Keith’s thigh, letting it’s weight rest against his jaw as Keith struggles. He moves it in between his own legs and barely has time to stroke before Keith comes apart in his mouth. 

Keith’s gripping his hair as Lotor swallows, upping the speed on his own cock. He can hardly focus, the pressure in his abdomen seems like it's growing limbs and pushing outward. Keith’s final cry of ‘ _Lotor_ ’ reaches the back of his brain, then he’s gone too, tipping over the edge and pulling away from Keith at the same time. 

It takes a few moments for his eyes to refocus, and when they do Keith is already climbing down from the island and offering him a dishtowel. 

“ _That_ ...” Keith wheezes, clearly over exerted from receiving a simple blowjob, and Lotor tries savor the fact that he was _right_ —Keith wouldn’t have been up for more—but he’s panting too hard himself, “...might have been the best idea you’ve ever had.” 

Lotor laughs outright, letting it slip out while he cleans himself off and stands. He tosses the rag away and steadies Keith when he catches him wobbling, then he moves to pick up the pans that have surrounded them the entire time. 

“I’m glad you liked it,” he says, “you might not like my other ones.” 

“Oh really.” Keith says, raising one eyebrow as he struggles to sit down at Lotor’s table. “And those are?” 

“Food,” Lotor states, and Keith makes a noise that can only mean ‘ _Really? Why wouldn’t I be okay with that?’_ then Lotor continues, “then _rest._ Possibly _days_ of it.”

He expects Keith to groan, to immediately complain, but he doesn’t, and Lotor looks up from where he’s closing a cabinet to see Keith frowning down at him. 

“ _Lotor_ —” 

Keith tries, but the sinking pit in Lotor’s stomach has suddenly returned and it urges him to cut Keith off. 

“ _No_.” It comes out sharper than he’d like, and he sees Keith flinch. He abandons the cabinet and goes over to him, placing a hand on his cheek and looking in his eyes like he’s pleading. “Let me have this—” _let me have_ _you_ , “ — without everything else.”

“I can’t—”

“You _can_.” Lotor cuts him off again with more desperation. His mind goes back to yesterday, to all the questions that linger between them. “You can’t give me anything else, and I understand. I won’t ask anymore questions, just...” he hesitates, a bird at the edge of the sky, “...just give me this.”

Keith closes his eyes, and Lotor feels the way he sinks into his touch. 

“Okay.” Keith agrees softly, giving in to the demand and pulling away from Lotor’s palm. “Just for a little while.”

Lotor inhales a breath he doesn’t remember letting go of then re-focuses on starting breakfast.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

Three days later they find themselves back under the duvet, laying on their sides and clinging to each other. Lotor traces patterns along Keith’s ribs, memorizing their indentations, and trying his best to forget how soon this could end. 

“They probably think I’m dead.” Keith says suddenly, his voice isn’t tense, but it pulls Lotor back to reality with jarring clarity. “Kolivan saw me bleeding, then no one saw me after that.”

“What does that mean?” Lotor asks, because he knows it means something. _Every word Keith says always means something._

“Just that,” he hesitates, tracing a circle in the hollow of Lotor’s throat, “maybe I can let them think that. _Just for a little while_.” 

The pressure in Lotor’s chest eases slightly, and he pulls Keith closer instead of responding. 

_Just for a little while_ , he echoes in his head and smiles. It’s become their mantra over the past few days—their forever—and it means, for once, _they have time_.

FIN. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Now THIS will probably be my final Voltron fic. I know, I know, I've said it before.  
> But this could possibly be my final fic...period. I plan on taking a break for a while, so no one panic if you don't see me in the fandom circles.  
> But also don't call me out if you do see me, and you see me writing. I promise I'm TRYING to take a break lol. We just have to wait and see if it works.
> 
> As always, if you read this fic, drop me a comment and let me know how you felt! -King


End file.
